Personal Demon
by Alex Ryzlin Gold
Summary: Santana was never normal. She just never showed it to anyone other than Brittany, Quinn and the people she murdered. Femslash. Read warnings inside!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Personal Demon

**Author: **Alex Gold (Ryzlin)

**Fandom: **Glee

**Pairing/s: **Brittany/Santana, Brittany/Artie, minor Quinn/Santana

**Rating: **R for very dark themes, violence and language.

**Warnings: **Murder, character death, suicide, almost rape, and other dark things.

**Summery: **Santana was never normal. She just never showed it to anyone other than Brittany, Quinn and the people she murdered.

**Author's Note: **I don't even know where this came from. This is a short story with six parts of different lengths. This is not a feel good story! It is Dark!fic. You've been warned.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. Poor me.

Brittany had always known; she knew everything about Santana after all. When they had first met, Santana had looked at Brittany strangely before claiming that she would kill for the blonde girl. Brittany had just grinned; she hadn't known what death even was at that age. They were four.

Quinn had found out by accident. It had been shortly after they had become friends, at some stupid senior's party. They had been fifteen and the alcohol had been flowing freely. Quinn hadn't really wanted to get drunk, so she had stuck to one drink. She had been offered another, but had seen the boy slip something into it. When she refused, he got angry and had clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her upstairs. The boy had just slammed the door shut when it bounced back open. Santana stood in the doorway, a broken bottle in her hand. She quickly glanced around the room before moving forward and shoving the bottle into the boy's throat. Somehow she managed to guide the boy onto the bed, scrunching the bed covers up near the heavily bleeding wound to catch the blood. Then Brittany had come in and just sighed. She had hugged Santana quickly before taking Quinn home and telling her that everything was okay. The next day a rumour went around that Tom Johnson (turns out that that was the boy's name) had run away to California. Quinn convinced herself that Santana had scared him off after she attacked him, and that he was still alive. Because really, Santana wouldn't kill him, would she? Quinn believed it for month. That was until she saw the locks of hair Santana kept in her bed side table draw. None were the same colour as hers or Brittany's, but there was a very distinctive blonde with red tips. The same colour hair that Tom had.

Quinn had gone to Santana's house (after a week of talking herself up) to confront her. Brittany had been there, and really, that was the only thing that had saved Quinn's life. She had accused Santana of doing something to Tom and the Latina had just tilted her head before walking slowly to her door. She pulled a key out of her pocket and locked the door before moving to her walk in wardrobe. She came out a minute later holding a long bladed knife, the tip curved up slightly.

"You shouldn't have come here, Quinn."

Santana moved forward, and Quinn backed away.

"You won't hurt me."

"That's where you're wrong. I'm not just going to hurt you; I'm going to kill you. Could you please move into the bathroom? It's easier to clean."

"No way. You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you do this."

Santana frowned. "I don't like that word."

She surged forward and knocked Quinn over. Santana was straddling her and had the knife to Quinn's throat before Quinn could do anything. Santana's other hand ran through Quinn's hair. Sometimes she curled a lock around her finger.

"I always take the hair. I like looking at it and remembering."

Quinn whimpered as Santana leaned forward, a wide grin on her face. She could feel the blade starting to dig into her neck, not quite cutting yet.

"San, please stop. I … I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"I like to keep my knife blunt. It means that it takes longer. Means it's more painful. I enjoy it more when they scream in pain. You'll scream, won't you, Quinn?" Santana's voice grew huskier with each word. She shuddered, letting out a guttural moan. It took Quinn a few seconds to realize that Santana had just orgasmed at the thought of killing her and other people.

The knife shook against Quinn's neck as Santana breathed heavily. Quinn saw Brittany get off the bed where she had been lying silently. She knelt down behind Santana, molding her body to Santana's before running her hand down the Latina's arm to the knife. Brittany's hand wrapped around Santana's hand, pulling the knife from Quinn's neck.

"Come on San. Let Quinn go. We'll sort this out differently. I'm sure she won't tell anyone."

Brittany guided the Latina to her bed and laid a kiss on her forehead. She placed the knife out of reach and grabbed the key in Santana's pocket. Brittany threw it towards Quinn.

"You should leave. We'll deal with you later. Don't tell anyone."

Quinn ran to the door and surprised herself by actually managing to unlock it. Her hands were shaking violently. She wrenched the door open and ran outside. She heard Brittany just as she left.

"Oh, God. Santana. Don't stop."

Quinn never did tell anyone. She did ask Brittany what the hell was going on. Hell, it seemed, was surprisingly accurate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. Poor me.

There had been complications with the birth, and Carmen Lopez had died. A few minutes later her daughter followed her. Fabian Lopez wasn't one to cry, but once he got the news, he broke down sobbing. He was left alone; no one at Lima general knew what to do with a man whose world had just been ripped apart. It didn't help that he was their boss. Then a man walked into the hospital and straight up to Fabian. No one stopped him, no one questioned him. He offered Fabian his daughter back, for a price. Fabian didn't even listen to the price, he accepted right away. He would pay any price, but it wasn't his price to pay. The man grinned, and told him it would be done.

There had been complication with the birth, and Carmen Lopez had died. A few minutes later her daughter was rushed out of the birthing room and into surgery. Santana Lopez survived, and Fabian swore he would do anything for his little girl.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. Poor me.

Brittany explained to Quinn that Santana had 'episodes', and during these 'episodes' she felt urges. Urges that weren't completely normal, and definitely weren't completely human (at least if the glowing yellow eyes were anything to go by). Santana had described them to Brittany once. A feeling deep within her chest that seemed to curl and clench at her heart and mind. Santana had told Brittany this after the first time.

They had been seven and had run away from Brittany's parents in the mall to play hide and seek. They eventually settled down in the less used car park to be found. But it wasn't Brittany's parents or older sister that found them; it was a man they had seen on TV. A man who was being tracked down by the police for the kidnapping, abuse and murder of three girls. He had grabbed Brittany around the neck and was reaching for Santana when a jagged stone was flung into his face with more force than a seven year old could manage. He dropped Brittany and stumbled back. Santana shoved him, and he stumbled again, falling over. He turned over, trying to get up, but Santana grabbed him by the hair and smashed his head into the ground. Once, twice, three times. Brittany started to lose count. Once the man stopped struggling, Santana let go of his bloody head and stood up. Some of his hair had stuck to her hand. She turned to face Brittany, and Brittany knew that she should be scared. What with her best friend having glowing yellow eyes instead of her normal warm brown. And having just killed a man, but she wasn't. She rushed forward and engulfed Santana in a hug. Brittany knew the man was a bad man (her mum had told her that) and that Santana had just saved her from being hurt.

"Thank you."

There had been a few other times, but Brittany made it clear that all those times had been justified. Either as self defense, or as defending someone else. But every single time, Brittany had been there to hug Santana and calm her down. Quinn had no idea how so many bodies (in lima even one murdered person was a lot) hadn't been found, but they hadn't. Quinn was sure she'd have heard about if they had. But she knew she couldn't tell anyone. Santana _had_ saved her. She wasn't naive enough to think that nothing would have happened with Tom after he dragged her upstairs. Quinn knew exactly what would have happened, and it was a scary thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. Poor me.

It had been a weird day for Santana. Everything was just … off. She felt on edge all the time. Like she was going to snap any second. But she didn't. Instead she got home from cheerleading practice after school and had a shower. She never showered in the Cheerio locker room unless she was alone, or (at a stretch) only Brittany was their. She always felt like the other girls wanted to hurt her. Then again, Santana felt that about most people, so it wasn't unusual. She still felt mostly that way about Quinn, but could tell she was actually starting to trust her. It was weird. It hadn't been a conscious choice to tell Brittany what she did, and had done. Brittany had just always been there since the first time and when she asked questions, Santana couldn't find a way to lie. No one could lie to Brittany.

Quinn hadn't told anyone yet and it had been two months. Santana didn't think Quinn would tell anyone, but even if she did, she doubted anyone would believe the head cheerleader. Not after she didn't say anything for two months. Besides, everyone knew that teenage girls didn't kill people.

Santana loved hot showers, though Brittany always complained that she'd burn her skin off if she kept them as hot as she did. It hadn't happened so far, but whenever she showered with the blonde Santana made sure to lower the temperature, just to appease her. Santana loved the way that steam curled around her in the shower before being sucked into the extractor fan. She loved the way the mirror fogged up and everything in the bathroom was covered in a fine layer of water. Everything seemed delicate and calm. Just for a few moments, Santana would stand there and just breathe. It was relaxing. Until it wasn't.

"What are you doing?"

Santana spun around, but she couldn't see anyone, and the door was locked. No one could have gotten in.

"Over here, idiot."

Except someone had. She saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to it. Someone had wiped their hand across the mirror, and now Santana was looking at her face in the mirror. But it wasn't her face because it was doing things that she wasn't. Namely rolling its eyes.

"Who are you?"

"I'm you."

Santana frowned. "No you're not. I'm me, therefore you're someone different."

The false Santana grinned. "You got me there. But I am a part of you. I'm the part of you that controls your, what do you call them? Oh yeah, 'episodes'." She made air quotation marks.

"Oh." Santana looked away. The false Santana became angry.

"Don't you look away like that. I'm the one that's kept you ad those you care about alive and uninjured. I look after you! You don't get to be anything other than appreciative of me."

"I know." Santana said, still not looking at the false Santana. "That's what worries me. I never feel completely in control during one of my episodes, but I do have _some_ control. I didn't kill Quinn after all. I didn't kill Quinn; I didn't have to kill the others. But I'm glad I did. They're gone now, and they won't hurt anyone again. I don't regret any of it."

The false Santana laughed at her. "You think that makes it better, do you? That they're 'bad people'? Everyone's done something bad. It's human. In the long run, it doesn't matter who _they_ were, because I only gave you the push. You killed them all on your own."

Santana sighed. "I know. I always knew." She sighed again. "Who are you anyway? I know you're not me."

"Keep up; we've established that I'm not you. I don't have a name anymore, I forgot it. You died shortly after you were born, and your father made a deal with the devil to bring you back. For a price of course. However, the devil can't give life, that's not his job, so he took you soul before it reached heaven and entwined it with a soul he already possessed. Mine. He can reanimate a corpse and change people's memories of an event. The thing is that if a corpse is reanimated while the original soul is already in it, then that soul takes control and essentially they come back to life."

"That's kind of creepy really. What was the price?"

False Santana snickered. "You're living it."

"Oh."

"You say that a lot. Aren't you shocked or something?"

"Not really. It makes more sense that some of the other things I've thought of."

False Santana nodded her agreement. "Yeah, you do have a wild imagination."

"Do you ever get bored? I can't imagine there's much to do while I'm at school or something."

"Your life is surprisingly entertaining. You should have a TV show or something."

"Thanks, I guess. I'm going to go call Britt over now and tell her about this."

"You do that."

Santana did call Brittany, and Brittany believed her. Brittany in turn told Quinn, who freaked out a bit before Brittany was able to calm her down. It wasn't like it was Santana's fault her soul was entwined with someone else's from hell.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. Poor me.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to **CrimsonJoy **and **Ryoko05** for reviewing.

It had been a year and a half since Santana had rescued Quinn from Tom. They were the undisputed bitches of the school, even if they were in Glee club. It meant that no one targeted Santana or the people she cared about, seeing as the only people she cared about were Brittany, Quinn and her father. There had been a few close calls, like when Santana found out Puck had taken advantage of Quinn while she was drunk and got her pregnant. But Brittany had been able to drag her out of the room to 'calm her down'. Which, Quinn learnt, was Brittany speak for make out and/or have sex.

But Quinn knew that one day something would make Santana would snap. Something would push her too far and Brittany wouldn't be able to calm her down.

It had happened on a Thursday, at the beginning of Glee practice. In the end, all it had taken was Artie reaching for Brittany's hand and him pulling the blonde girl onto his lap. Santana had shot out of her seat and it had only been Quinn tackling her to the ground that stopped Santana. Santana had a switch blade in one hand, and Quinn had no idea where it had come from. The Latina's eyes had already changed to yellow. Santana struggled as Quinn tried to pin her to the ground. The problem was, Quinn could tell that Santana was moments away from successfully tossing her off her. Quinn did the only thing she could think of. She pressed her lips to Santana's. Santana stopped thrashing. Then Quinn found herself in the air. She landed with a loud thud.

"Really, Quinn?" Santana spat as she stood up. "You think a lot of yourself if you think you can replace Brittany. Would you like to try? I bet you couldn't take me."

Brittany got off Artie's lap and placed herself in between Santana and Quinn, her back to Quinn.

"Don't involve yourself in this, Quinn. I don't want you getting hurt, and Santana can get a bit forceful during her episodes."

Quinn paled before scrambling to get up. "Are you saying that, that she…"

Brittany spun around and glared at Quinn.

"No! _Everything_ that has _ever_ happened between Santana and I has been consensual, and will continue to be so. I just don't want _her _fucking _you_."

Quinn nodded hurriedly, holding up her hands in surrender. You did not want Brittany angry at you; she could be pretty scary when she wanted to be. Brittany turned back to Santana.

"You don't want to hurt anyone, San. I know you don't."

Santana grinned and spun the switch blade through her fingers.

"Actually, I do. You have no idea how much I want to kill the crippled freak."

She took a step forward and placed a hand on Brittany's chest.

"By the way, you're not talking to Santana anymore. She hates Stubbles, that's where my hate comes from, but for some reason, she doesn't want to hurt him. Normally I'd only push, but in this instance, I've decided that's not enough. She's been holding out on me, and I'm bored. I want to kill somebody."

She pushed with her fingers, making Brittany stumble back slightly.

"I'm stronger than you, Brittany. A lot stronger. Now get out of my way, before I have to hurt you too."

"Santana won't let you hurt me."

"See, that's where you're wrong. I've only taken over once before, and I gave control back pretty quickly. Santana's never had to fight me off, she doesn't know how. Now, last warning. Move, and let me kill the cripple, or I'll kill everyone in this room. Your choice Brittany."

Mr. Schuester was confused. He was pretty sure that while Santana had a bad attitude, she wasn't murderous.

"Okay, what's going on here, guys? Santana's not going to kill or hurt anyone. She's a teenage girl."

Artie rolled up next to him. "I'd like to know what's going on too. I mean, I know you two have slept together in the past, but Brittany, are you still having sex with Santana?"

Brittany shrugged. "Only when I needed to. Or wanted to."

"Needed to?" Artie spat. He scowled at Santana. "I think I understand. She manipulated you again, didn't she? There's no good reason in which you _need_ to have sex with that bitch."

"No, Artie." Brittany said with a pout. "You don't understand. If you understood you'd have run away by now."

Artie let out a frustrated sigh. "What do you have to say for yourself, Santana?"

Santana tilted her head and grinned. "I'm bored. Let's have some fun."

Once again she found herself tackled to the ground as she went for Artie. This time by Brittany, who was currently lying on top of her. Santana snarled in frustration when she realized that her switch blade had been knocked from her hand. With a twist of her hips, she flipped herself and Brittany over.

"Fine, be that way."

Santana curled her hands around Brittany's neck and squeezed. Brittany struggled and pulled at Santana's arms but couldn't break the Latina's hold. Brittany was starting to black out, her vision was receding, but she thought that it looked like Santana was crying. She tried to speak, to ask if Santana was alright, but only ended up with her mouth half way open and no sound escaping.

Suddenly, Brittany was able to take in big gulps of air. She stared at the ceiling before sitting up slowly. Santana was being held by Puck and Mr. Schuester. Her feet a foot off the ground. She was kicking and screaming and flailing. It was clear that Santana was close to freeing herself. Brittany closed her eyes and when she opened them again Quinn was helping her up. Santana had broken free of Puck and Mr. Schue and was retrieving her switch blade. She held it in one hand, her knuckles turning white. Puck was nursing a bloody nose while Mr. Schue was trying to relearn how to breathe after being winded. Now Brittany knew she was definitely seeing tears flowing down Santana's face. It contrasted with the look of pure hatred on Santana's face.

"I knew I should have gotten rid of you. The moment she started getting attached to you, I should have killed you. I knew that one day you'd get in my way. I guess I'll just have to rectify my mistake."

Brittany frowned. "What does reck… ref… uh…"

"It means I'm going to kill you, you dumb bitch." Santana snarled. She started forward, only pausing slightly to hit Puck in the side of the head when he tried to stop her again. Once she was close enough, Santana flung her arm out and knocked Quinn over. She placed the switch blade at Brittany's neck.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you. I… fuck … not now."

Santana's eyes flashed from yellow to brown for a second before flickering back.

"I don't want to kill her. I don't want to kill her. I don't want to kill her. I don't want to kill her. I don't…"

Her eyes flickered again, this time staying brown.

"I'm sorry, Britt. So, so sorry. I love you."

She did it before Brittany could stop her. Santana removed the switch blade from Brittany's throat and turned it towards herself. She thrust the blade into herself under her ribcage and up, into her heart. Brittany caught her before she fell and gently lowered Santana to the floor. Santana's hand fell to the side and the switch blade clattered to the floor. Blood stained the front of Santana's shirt and more blood escaped from her mouth, falling to the floor in a small puddle.

"No, no, no, no, no, no. San. Sanny! NO! You can't die. No. It's not your fault; it's not your fault. You didn't choose this. It's not your fault."

Brittany cried. Tears fell onto Santana, mingling with blood. Brittany had one hand pressed to Santana's face and the other pressed against the heavily bleeding wound. She willed the blood back in; it didn't help. Santana blinked slowly.

"Love … you … Britt…" She gurgled through the blood in her mouth.

"You're not allowed to leave me. San, you said you wouldn't leave me."

Brittany let out a scream as Santana stopped breathing.

"You can't leave me! Don't leave me!"

Brittany cried harder.

It was enough to make an angel cry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. Poor me.

**Author's Note:** So, in the beginning, I lied. This is going to be more than six parts. Also, I've started the next part, but I don't know when I'll have it finished. I have a few essays due soon. But I hope to have it up by the end of the week.

There had been complications with the birth, and Susan Pierce had almost died. Her daughter did die. Alexander Pierce wasn't one to cry, but once he got the news, he broke down sobbing next to his wife. They were left alone; no one at Lima general knew what to do with a couple whose world had just been ripped apart. Susan prayed while she cried, it was enough to make an angel cry.

There had been complication with the birth, and Susan pierce had almost died. A few minutes later her daughter was rushed out of the birthing room and into surgery. Brittany Pierce survived, and her parents thanked God for sparing them that pain.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. Poor me.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long wait. I was swamped with assignments. I've only got one more left for ext week, so hopefully up dates should be quicker.

Santana sat up, pushing Brittany off her. She still wasn't breathing, and her eyes were still glassy. She leaned over to the side and started coughing. At first only blood was being expelled, then a thick black substance eased its way from between Santana's lips. She stopped coughing and started to vomit up more of the black liquid. Brittany quickly grabbed at Santana's hair and moved it out of the way.

"Sanny?"

Santana didn't answer, she just kept retching. It was a long ten minutes and a very large pool of black liquid later when Santana fell against Brittany breathing heavily.

"Sanny?" Brittany's voice was crackly, and Santana didn't know if it was from crying or from the ring of bruises around the blonde's throat.

Santana grunted at her and closed her eyes.

Rachel inched towards them, keeping an eye on the black liquid on the ground.

"Brittany, I called an ambulance. I think we need to get her and you to the hospital."

Brittany looked up at Rachel. She was confused for a second before she remembered that they were in glee, and that the rest of the club had just witnessed the whole event. She was also kind of confused because she had understood what Rachel was saying due to the diva not using her normally large vocabulary. Brittany was sure that it meant something that Rachel wasn't drowning them in words, but she wasn't sure what. Rachel rushed out of the choir room to wait for the paramedics.

Mike sat towards the back of the room with Tina on his lap; he was hugging her to him protectively. The Asian girl was watching everything with wide eyes. Kurt and Mercedes sat behind them, both sporting horrified and slightly disgusted (what _was_ that black stuff?) looks. Lauren sat at the very back alone. Puck had left her to stop Santana killing Brittany. She looked mildly impressed. Lauren only ever did mild emotions. Brittany found it kind of disturbing. Sam and Finn were standing in front of the door, obviously having just walked in when Santana snapped. Both looked pale and were trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Puck and Mr. Schuester both stood near by, still nursing their wounds. Slightly behind them was Artie. He was just staring down at Santana.

Brittany felt Quinn kneel down beside her. She handed Brittany a water bottle, which Brittany took and started to force Santana to drink from it. After a few minutes, Santana pushed the bottle away and opened her eyes. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a lighter. Brittany knew that Santana was the one who encouraged Lord Tubbington to smoke, so a lighter was any surprise. Santana tried to make it work a few times before shoving it into Brittany's hands.

"Burn it." She mumbled, closing her eyes again. "If you don't, it'll come back."

Brittany lay Santana down on the ground and turned to the black liquid. She wasn't going to doubt Santana, especially about things like this. Brittany flicked the lighter and brought the flame to the black pool.

"Brittany, I don't know if you should be playing with a lighter."

Mr. Schuester remembered the stories the cooking teacher had told him about Brittany and fire. Brittany just glared at him. Who was he to interrupt something Santana had told her to do? Brittany turned back to the pool of liquid and brought the flame even closer to it. The pool moved away.

"Uh… San? Is the black stuff _meant_ to move?"

Santana's eyes snapped open just in time to see the black liquid start to move of its own accord and form the shape of a body. A naked male body with Ken doll attributes. It smirked down at Santana and Brittany.

"It's good to not depend on a teenage girl's body anymore."

Brittany lent closer to Santana. "That's the evil soul, right?"

Santana nodded.

"Really?"

"Yes, I'm the soul from hell entwined with Santana's. Can we speed this up? I wish to murder someone."

Brittany frowned. "I always thought you were a girl."

The soul given form cocked his head and stared at Brittany.

"I don't think I ever understood you. Not even when I was joined with Santana. Now, I'm leaving. If you try and stop me I'll kill you. Good bye."

The soul walked out of the choir room with a swagger that could only be called cocky. Santana let out a loud groan.

"I have to stop him. I have to." She pushed herself up, only to fall back down when the pain in her abdomen became too much to bear.

Rachel ran back into the choir room with the paramedics a step behind her. Santana was loaded onto one stretcher and Brittany was loaded onto another. One of the paramedics insisted Puck come with them and put him in the first ambulance with Brittany. Quinn made sure to be in the second ambulance with Santana.

"Are you okay, S?"

"I'm alive. That's a plus." She paused. "I never meant for this to happen."

"I know you didn't. We'll sort this out."

Santana nodded before falling unconscious.

Arriving at the hospital had been interesting. Brittany had refused to be checked out until she saw Santana, who was still unconscious. In the end, Quinn had searched the entire top floor to find Dr. Lopez, who was in a meeting with the other hospital executives. She had opened the door, looked at him and simply said:

"Brittany has been strangled and Santana has been stabbed. Brittany refuses to leave Santana to get checked out until San is treated, and San is currently unconscious. You need to calm Brittany down."

Apparently Brittany only responded to Lopez branded charm. Dr. Lopez stood up and rushed out of the meeting room, Quinn half a step behind him. He was able to get Brittany to sit on the other side of the room while he checked her out. Brittany's eyes never strayed from Santana. Quinn hadn't been allowed into the room to begin with, as it was technically a surgical room. She didn't know how Brittany had managed to get inside in the first place, but it probably had something to do with her puppy dog eyes and pout.

Determining that there was nothing wrong with Brittany but the bruising around her neck, Dr. Lopez sat next to her. His arm was wrapped around her shoulder, giving some comfort. Brittany gestured to the surgeon currently working on Santana.

"What are they saying?"

"She'll be fine. They've used a local anesthetic and are giving her internal stitches. The stab wound wasn't too deep. It didn't hit any organs, amazingly."

Brittany frowned. That couldn't be right. There had been so much blood. She sat silently and waited.

It took time, but eventually, Santana was moved out of the operating room and into a private room. She was still unconscious, but Brittany settled down next to her and grabbed Santana's hand. Dr. Lopez stood in the doorway, watching. He had known about Santana and Brittany for a long time. It was pretty hard not to notice. He smiled and turned to leave the room. Santana would be in good hands with Brittany.

Brittany stayed awake well into the night. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until San was better and didn't even bother trying. She sat there, soothing Santana when the Latina girl had nightmares and whimpered. Nothing much was helping, and Brittany decided that the only way San would ever get better was if she destroyed that bitch that gave San nightmares.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. Poor me.

**Author's Note:** Sorry it took so long. Assignments and last few weeks of uni and all that. Meh. Almost finished. Just a few more days of classes, and then exams.

Santana thought she was dead. That was after all why she had stabbed herself, because she needed to die to save Brittany. She kind of looked like she was dead, what with the long, white robe she was wearing. She certainly wouldn't be caught alive in it. But that would mean that she was in Heaven (or something, really she was guessing), and that certainly wasn't right. Everything around her was white and swirling. It didn't seem very Heaven-y, and if this was Heaven; what a boring place.

"You're not dead, nor are you in Heaven."

Santana spun around.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Santana could tell there was someone there, but whenever she looked at him, her eyes just slid to the side.

"I am an angel. I am here to guide you."

"Guide me where? You said I'm not dead. How is that possible? I killed myself. I want to be dead. She's protected if I'm dead. I want to be dead."

The angel smiled slightly. Well, Santana got the feeling he (did angels have genders?) was smiling. She still couldn't quite look at him.

"Brittany is the reason you are alive."

"Okay, see, I don't get that. Brittany is the reason I killed myself. Well, kind of. I mean, I killed myself to protect her." Santana paused, taking a deep breath. "I need to protect her."

"But she is also the reason you are alive. Angels are a race, we are born. Sometimes a human is so good, that when they die, they become an angel, but it does not happen often. Brittany is one of these humans. When she dies, she will become an angel, and an angel's tears can heal."

"Britt's tears healed me? She cried over me?"

"Of course she cried over you, but her tears did not heal you. Mine did."

"Why do you care about me?"

"I care about every human. It is in my nature to do so. I think what you intended to ask, is why did I _cry_ over you?"

Santana nodded.

"I did not cry over you. I cried because Brittany was in pain. Only another angel can make an angel cry."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you need to know."

"Why?"

"Because Brittany needs you, and you are not waking up. You need to wake up now, or Brittany will become an angel very soon."

Santana was alone when she woke up, and that scared her a little. If her dream (she guessed that was the best word for it) was correct, Brittany needed her, and there wasn't anything Santana wouldn't do for Brittany. She sat up, and surprisingly, it didn't hurt as badly as she remembered it hurting. She pulled the IV carefully out of her arm and looked around the room. There was a backpack near the base of the hospital bed, and her cell phone and wallet on the bedside table. Santana grabbed the backpack, hoping there was clothing inside. There was, and Santana got changed into the sweatpants, t-shirt and hoodie her father had presumably got her. She made sure to get changed carefully, and to not accidentally disturb the bandages around her stomach. The tightness Santana felt there led her to believe that she had stitches. She wondered if anyone would notice her leaving and try to stop her. This was Lima, so it probably wouldn't happen. Santana slipped out of the room and down the hallway. No one tried to stop her, which was nice. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket when she got outside and dialed a number, waiting impatiently while it rung.

"Hello?"

"Quinn, I need you to pick me up. I'm outside the hospital."

"Aren't you meant to be _inside_ the hospital, sleeping or something? You were badly hurt, San."

"I don't care where you think I'm meant to be, I _know_ where I'm meant to be. If you don't come and pick me up, I'm going to start walking, and I honestly don't know if I'll make it, or if I'll just collapse on the side of the road."

"Fine! I'll be there in ten. Don't kill yourself while you wait. Again."

Quinn hung up and Santana smirked at how well she'd been able to play the blonde girl. Head Bitch her ass.

Quinn was true to her word, and only took ten minutes to get to the hospital.

"Where are we going?"

"School."

Quinn just stared at her. "_Why?_"

"You'll see."

"That is not a good enough answer Lopez."

"Deal with it, Fabray."

The ride to McKinley was silent, and Santana jumped out as soon as the car stopped. She raced into the school, only limping slightly. Quinn followed a few seconds later. They stormed through the halls, and despite neither girl wearing her Cheerios uniform, people moved out of the way. It was halfway through the school day, and people were moving between classes. Santana stopped outside Sue's office and knocked.

"Come in."

Sue barely looked up from the file she was reading as Santana and Quinn entered.

"S, Q. What are you doing here? Last I heard, you were meant to be in hospital and at home respectively."

"Well, Santana wanted to ask you something, and it was better for me to drive her than for her to walk here from the hospital."

Sue raised an eyebrow, still reading the file in front of her.

"Oh, really? What did she have to ask me? I mean, she goes and kills herself and releases a demon into the world without asking me, what could she possibly have to ask me now?"

Santana frowned.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"My parents were Nazi hunters, and while they were never at home, I still did learn from them. Yesterday, I was just minding my own business in my office, planning the down fall of Glee when this demon runs past intent on murdering people. So, I follow the trail of blood he left behind and see S dying, or close to dying as she's taken away by an ambulance."

There was something in her voice that seemed… almost hurt? Santana tried not to laugh.

"Are you actually upset that I didn't tell you I had a demon inside me?"

"It's just nice to know these things."

"Well, I'm going to go kill the demon. I need your help."

Sue gave Santana a look that she was familiar with. It said 'who-do-you-think-you-are-to-ask-me-for-anything-at-all'. Santana raised an eyebrow in response.

"How do you think it's going to look if two of your Cheerios are admitted to hospital, while in the company of a third and at least one of those Cheerios doesn't stop talking about demons killing people? And before you say that you'll just blame it on Glee; you can be sure that I have covered that angle. It's a well known fact that we joined Glee to act as your spies, and it was Artie, a member of Glee who was the main target. It looks kind of bad for you, Coach."

Sur pursed her lips. "While I admire your skill at black-mailing, I don't appreciate it being directed at me. I'll help you, but any more of this black-mailing business, and I'll kick you off the squad. Understood?"

"Understood, Coach."

"Now, what do you need?"

"A flame thrower."

"What makes you think I have one?"

"You briefly mentioned having one in an interview you did after cheerleading Nations five years ago, and I can't see you just throwing it away."

Sue nodded thoughtfully. "I may or may not have stored it with the rest of the Cheerios gear. Maybe. Not that I want you to go look for it or anything. It's just one of many useless facts that I'm going to get you to memorise in order to make sure you can't remember any new songs for that stupid singing club. Also, more people kill themselves on Mondays than any other day. You failed to conform, yet again, S."

"Yeah, I'm good at that."

"I know. You can leave now."

Santana and Quinn left, heading towards the Cheerio's equipment room. Quinn and Santana both had a key to it. An advantage to being head cheerleader. In Santana's case, she had made sure to get a copy of the key long before being demoted to the bottom of the pyramid. They were digging through everything Coach Sylvester had collected over the last ten or so years (no one really knew how long she had been at McKinley, or how old she was) and Santana was starting to think that the flamethrower being there was leaning more towards 'may not have' rather than 'may have'. Eventually, they did find it. It was bulky, and needed to be strapped onto someone's back. Santana covered it with a large red tarpaulin and sneaked it out to Quinn's car.

Their first stop was at a gas station to refill the flamethrower with propane. It had been a bit tough to get considering that both Santana and Quinn were under eighteen, and the flamethrower was a deadly weapon, but in the end Quinn was driving off with a quarter full flamethrower in her back seat.

"Where are we going this time?"

Santana drummed her fingers on her knee. "She needs me, but where is she? Britt, where are you?"

"_You're the reason she's hurt. You're the reason she ever started killing. I was going to wait for a while, but you decided to play that stupid hide and seek game while there was a kidnapper in the area." The demon spat._

_Brittany was frowning, seconds away from crying. She lifted the baseball bat in her hand slightly._

"_Shut up."_

"_Or what? You'll cry on me? You're useless."_

_They were on a basket ball court, and Brittany looked like she had taken a few too many hits to her face._

"_I'm not useless."_

"_Yes you are. Everything that's wrong right now is your fault. Everything!"_

Santana shook her head. It took her a few moments to realize that Quinn had pulled over and that the car was not moving.

"Go to the basket ball courts by the park."

"San, are you alright?"

"Just go."

Again they drive in silence, with Quinn throwing Santana concerned glances very few hundred meters. It was a very short drive, and Santana was out of the car before it had completely stopped moving. She opened the back door and pulled out the flamethrower, carefully adjusting it so that it sat on her back well. Then she was off running as fast as she could.

The basket ball court was on the other side of the park to the car park. It was pretty much deserted since a new basket ball court had been built at McKinley that actually had benches and floodlights for early morning and late night games. She rounded the corner just in time to see the demon snatch the baseball bat out of Brittany's grip and shove her to the ground. Santana jumped in between them. She didn't talk to the demon. She didn't have to. The only thing of any importance was Brittany. Santana reached behind her and twisted the fuel valve on before flicking off the igniter safety and the firing safety. With a face void of emotion, Santana pressed down on the trigger, engulfing the demon in flames. She stood stone still, ignoring the demon's yelling and curses until the flamethrower had run out of fuel (they hadn't been able to afford too much) and the demon was nothing but ash.

Santana pushed the flamethrower off her back and dropped to her knees next to Brittany. She pulled the blonde girl's head in her lap.

"Britt-Britt, can you hear me?"

"Yeah… 'm alright." She rasped out, her eyes fluttering. "What're you doin' 'ere?"

"Saving you of course. I'm never gonna leave you."

"That's nice…I'mma sleepy now."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or anything associated with Glee. Poor me.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers, particularly **CrimsonJoy**, who has reviewed a lot. :) Sorry for the wait, but exams and study are kind of important.

Quinn had somehow managed to get both Brittany and Santana into her car and back to the hospital. Santana had ripped her stitches, and had second degree burns on her hands and forearms. Brittany had a concussion, a broken arm, a broken nose and multiple lacerations on her face. Dr. Lopez had forced both of them to stay in the hospital for a week. Partly because Santana wouldn't stay without Brittany, and Brittany wouldn't leave with out Santana. By the end of the week they had all the hospital staff doing their bidding, though no one really knew how. There was another week spent at home (or in Santana's case at Brittany house) resting. Half way through the third week, they were allowed back to McKinley. Santana's arms were wrapped from finger tips to elbow and Brittany had a bright yellow cast (complete with ducks courtesy of Santana and a Sharpe) on her left arm and a matching yellow bandage wrapped around her neck. The bruising Santana had given her still hadn't quite faded. It made Santana feel like shit every time she gazed at the blonde.

Their first day back had ended with Glee practice. It had been incredibly awkward. Apparently everyone had been pestering Quinn for answers on what had occurred n the choir room weeks before. Quinn hadn't given any/ Now that Brittany and Santana were back, all the Glee club could do was stare at them. Mr. Schuester couldn't get anyone to do anything, and ended up finishing Glee early. No one left. Not even Schuester. They just sat there is silence. It was Puck who finally spoke.

"Dude, what the fuck happened?"

Schuester was far too interested in the answer to reprimand Puck's language. So, with a quick glance at Brittany and Quinn for support, Santana started to talk. She told them everything.

Except the murders.

And the demon.

And the dying at birth.

Actually, she didn't tell them anything near the truth. Santana carefully wove a story about being diagnosed with both intermittent explosive disorder and multiple personality disorder at a young age, and having recently come off her medication because she didn't want to be dependent on it anymore. Apparently, coming of her medication had been a bad idea. But she was back on it now, and everything was fine. They all believed her, and left with encouraging words and a few pats on Santana's shoulder. She was pretty sure that they were all going to Wikipedia everything she had told them when they got home. Which was okay, since that's where Santana had gotten all her information from in the first place.

"So." Quinn said quietly from where she still sat next to Santana. "That was quite some bullshitting."

Brittany giggled, and leaned across Santana to see Quinn. "She came up with it in half an hour."

"Colour me impressed."

Brittany frowned sadly at Quinn. "But I don't have my magic markers on me… Wait, what colour is impressed? Is it blue?"

Santana slung an arm around Brittany's shoulders. "You're thinking to depressed, babe."

Quinn smiled at them. "So, ignoring everything you just told glee, you're doing well? Both of you?"

"Yeah, we're doing well. Better than before at least."

"If it's not blue, what colour is it?"

Santana turned to Brittany and hummed while she thought. "Pink. Impressed is pink."

"Oh my God!" Brittany clapped her hands together excitedly. "I just got some pink hair dye yesterday."

Santana smirked at Quinn. "Is that so? You did say _colour_ you impressed, Quinn."

Quinn groaned. She knew that eventually she would give in. She just hoped that she wouldn't look to hideous with pink hair.

**So, this is the end. Thanks for reading, everyone. Sadly, I can safely say that there will not be a sequel.**


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